The Anatomy of a Prince
by Aloena
Summary: Khan fights his ever-present bloodthirst to get through High School, when his previously-absent father shows up. Klaus forces his son back to New Orleans, where he expects him to be the heir his kingdom deserves. To turn the teenager into a dreaded ruler, he orders the strictest training on him, but Khan couldn't be less cooperative. After all, Klaus is everything he despises. Adri
1. Teeth

Even from the back of the room the veins in her neck are as prominent as ever. None of the ordinary suckers around me notices how her blood rushes through them just underneath that thin layer of skin. I'd easily break it. I'd thrust my teeth into her neck and tear her throat open. Her blood would fill my mouth, thick and sweet.

"God, Khan, you're so pathetic." Erin's eyes are trained on Stella as well, but unlike me, she doesn't look like she wants to rip every limb from her body.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I mumble and try to focus on the book before me. Who am I even kidding? As long as Stella's in the room, my attention is on her. I smell her stupid strawberry shampoo and I listen for the soft rustle of fabric as she crosses her legs under that way-too-fucking-long skirt.

"Is he staring again?" Rick doesn't even bother to lower his voice when he lifts his head off his table.

"Yup, full stalker mode activated," Erin whispers. Rick has no trouble picking up on her words, even though I'm sitting between the both, because Rick is more like me than Erin will ever understand. He's partially human, partially wolf.

"Maybe I was looking. I wasn't staring." I was staring, but the second I'd admit that I was craving a girl's blood I am out of school for good. My mother has her ears everywhere. It's fucking with my head. I can hardly voice an honest thought without her confronting me about it.

"Just go talk to her, man."

"I hate to admit it, but Rick's right. It's not like you're a leper. Somewhere underneath those terrible curls and the girly dimples must be potential for cuteness."

God, sometimes I wonder why we even hang out with that redheaded pain in the ass. "You're such a sweetheart, Erin. How is someone like you perpetually single?"

"Mister Mikaelson, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No. I'm sorry, Mrs. Collins," I sigh. Everybody is staring at me, now. Including Stella. God, I have to focus on my teacher. I swear, if I get one glance at Stella's rosy lips, she won't get home alive.

"Cut the birthday boy some slack, Mrs. Collins," Rick hollers.

Our history teacher mumbles something into her scarf and sits back down without more complaining. It's not because it's my eighteenth birthday, though, it's just that she's a lazy ass woman who can't be bothered to give a shit.

As soon as class lets out, I bolt to the bathroom. Mostly because it smells like shit – literally – and clears my nose of every bit of Stella's scent. I roll my head back into my neck and lean against the sink. It's getting worse each day. I won't be able to take much more. Blood bags only get me so far. Soon I'd have to start carrying them around to help against the dusty tongue in a dry mouth and the constant stream of bloody massacres in my head. As soon as I'm sure most of the hallways are empty and my brain isn't fogged up by a blonde neo hippie girl, I shoulder my bag and jog out of the building, past the hurrying students and down the steps. Only to stop dead at the sight of a sleek, black car and a twenty-something guy in a leather jacket leaning next to it.

It's hard to control the muscles in my face but somehow I manage to freeze them still. My breathing evens and I step up to the son of a bitch who hasn't shown his face in two years.

"What do you want?" I bite, although I don't even want to hear the answer.

"Is that any way to talk to your father?"

I whip my head around, but there's no one to hear. The parking lot has been wiped clean. As far as everybody in school in concerned, my father is dead. It's kind of hard to explain that my father is in fact a never-aging vampire/werewolf hybrid who has some serious ego issues.

"I wouldn't know, Klaus. I never had one."

"Get in the car, son."

I'm about to refuse but the door to the backside swings open. Rick sits inside, breathing heavily with his hand curled around Stella's neck. Her lips tremble. Her fear leaks sweat from her pores. The blood hammers through her veins and her eyes skip from Rick to Klaus to me and back to Rick. She opens her mouth but no sound escapes her throat.

"You compelled her."

"Of course I did. Now, get inside before Richard snaps the girl's neck."

Richard. I should have seen this coming. Klaus was a control freak. Why did I even think only Mom was watching my every step. He had his spy as well. I dig my nails into my palms and sink into the seat besides Stella. Right in front of me, in the passenger seat, I see a familiar curtain of red curls.

"Happy birthday, Khan," Erin sings.

He had spies. Plural.

I knew there were reasons why I was a loner in middle school. Friends sucked.

Klaus falls into the driver's seat and rips the engine to life. "Eat up, son. It's going to be a long drive."

"Where are we going?" I ask, dismissing his order to eat.

"Home. It's time you learn to rule your kingdom."

It's weird, but my biggest concern is that Mom won't know I'm being forced to go back to New Orleans. She's going to be angry first, because I'm not home for dinner, and then, a few hours later, she will wear a path into the living room carpet because she can't stop pacing back and forth when she's worried. Maybe I should worry, too, about sitting in a car with a psychopath and his sidekicks. It's just so hard to worry with Stella's erratic heart beating merely two feet away from my mouth.

"Why are you even hesitating, man. This is our birthday present for you. I mean, if you don't want her… I'm always hungry."

"Shut the fuck up or you'll be the one that I'll rip apart," I growl.

"Now, that's more like it," Klaus laughs. "Nevertheless, I have no need for a starved little boy. Eat."

Tuning out my father's words, I turn to Rick and Stella. He still holds her in place and it would be easy to compel him off of her, but my eyes stop on Stella's. She wears the same expression I've fantasized about so often. That's it. All I can think of is that I have imagined clawing my way under her skin so many times. Other than that, she's an empty shell. I don't know what she likes. I don't know her family or her plans for the future. She's just the image of a girl that I can't get out of my head. And suddenly the solution is so easy. Get it over with, kill her and have her out of my thoughts for good. Why fight the symptoms when you can erase the cause?

Because it would be the humane thing to do.

The problem is: I was never human. I was born a monster.

"I'm sorry," I say and tilt my head to the side. Pain shoots through my gums as the fangs pierce their way out and grow longer. My lips curl back to make room for them. "I waited for this for a long time." Lurching forward, I press my mouth against her sweaty neck. My tongue flicks over her salty skin, before my teeth break through the thin tissue and the blood wells into my mouth. My hand moves up. I push Rick off, grabbing her hair and tugging her head out of my way. I swallow the hot liquid. It deliciously burns down my throat. She makes no attempt to stop me. Her hands lie on my chest but she doesn't shove. I push into them. Their cold seeps through my shirt. It drives me further. I want more of her warmth. I want all her warmth.


	2. Tongue

Sitting next to an almost dead girl for hours is no fun at all. Even more so if you're the reason her body is jumping the ship cell by cell. The smell is mortifying. Dead and rotten is one thing, dying and clinging onto the last bits of life is a whole different shebang. My gut twitches when I look at her white, bloodless skin.

I know that vampire blood can heal humans, but Rick's wolf, Erin is human – I think. She doesn't smell like vampire. – and I won't ask for Klaus's help. Which would leave me. Hell, I never tested what my blood did to humans. For all I know, it could turn her into a unicorn. So I weave my fingers through hers and hope she hangs in there for the last few miles. It's not that far, right? People have fought through worse than being sucked dry by a monster, right? I need that to be right.

By the time the car stops, Stella's breathing is so shallow, even I have my problems hearing it. One after another, the car doors pop open, so I swing my legs out and let my feet slap against the pavement. The air's sensibly different here. New Orleans is so unlike the comatose Maine small town I was tucked into for the past fifteen years. It smells of sweat, spices and a whole lot of vampires.

"Get the boy to his room and get rid of the girl," Klaus barks orders to no one in particular, but immediately two buff vampires flank me and Rick throws Stella over his shoulder.

I fill my lungs with hot air and square my shoulders, announcing in my most regal tone, "I want to keep the girl." It still sounds pathetic in my ears but everyone hesitates in mid-step anyway. I swallow. "If I'd meant to get rid of her, I would have killed her hundreds of miles ago. – To tell you the truth, she's delicious." God, I'm a terrible actor. But as soon as Stella is back in the saddle, I'll grab her and run like hell. There is no fucking way I'll stay here. The supernatural in this city is crawling under my skin.

I might be a monster genetically but most of my morals are still intact. As long as I'm not desperate for blood, at least.

"I guarantee you, you will have more than enough girls to choose from." Klaus seems annoyed with my immediate power over his people. So am I. It means they acknowledge the connection between him and me. A connection I'd rather see torn apart than acknowledged.

"I like this one. Have for quite a while. Rick-Richard and Erin are my witnesses. I thought it would be shameful to waste months of my life for one single snack in the back of your car."

"Well, then… Find a room for the girl. Make sure she stays there. Same for him. He's in no position to give orders just yet. Not when his mother's ludicrous rules are still stuck in his head." Klaus passes me by without another glance in my direction and disappears into a three story building. The balconies are swarmed with curious onlookers, none of them human. Even as we pass through the doors into a square courtyard with a massive fountain in the middle of it, above are the observing eyes of Klaus's loyal subjects. I wonder if the falling night has lured them out or if it was the chance to see the one and only son of their leader.

The guards by my sides lead me up to the third floor and down a blue hallway, at the very end of which is a single door. Two meaty hands shove me into the big-ass room. It's painted a terrible yellowish white, but the ceilings are high, the windows are huge and I seem to have all the essentials here. Including my clothes. On the kingsize bed sits my blue duffel bag and spills my clothes onto the sheets.

They were in my house. In my room. If they so much as lay a finger on Mom, I am going to trash every bit of decency I have left and rip the bleeding hearts out of their chests.

"Got everything you need?"

I spin around to see Erin leaning in the doorway, wrapping an orange curl around her finger. Traitorous bitch. I give her my backside to look at and march towards the windows. Behind them waits a narrow balcony. The windows are unlocked, so I swing them open but as I want to take another step, I run into a wall. Except there is none. I try again and am stopped – again – by a barrier. "What the…"

"Oh, we made sure you had no chance to run off into the sunset with your blonde little princess. We spelled the room. There's no way out. Well, not for you, at least."

"You spelled it?" I draw my eyebrows together but still refuse to face her.

"Guilty as charged."

The bitch is a witch.

A low rumble escapes my throat. I don't know where that comes from, but from the corner of my eye, I see Erin flinch, so I'm glad I can produce that sort of sound.

"I'm gonna leave you to it, then. Make yourself a home. I bet I'm needed to make sure poor, dear Stella isn't dying right now. I didn't think you had that in you, Khan."

"Yeah, I prefer to keep that part of myself buried deeply."

"You shouldn't. It's pretty hot."

"You're fucked up, Erin."

"Maybe."

She's still standing in the doorway, hasn't stepped inside. Maybe whatever spell is keeping me caught in here, would keep her, too. Someday I am going to use that to my advance, more than I'm about to, but for now, I just throw the door shut in her face. It bangs into the frame and I hope it hit her nose.

Sitting down is impossible, nervous thoughts running through my head make my feet tingle and my hands tremble, and I can't stay still for even a minute. I pace the room for any sign of an emergency exit. I mean, if someone torched the house, I'd die in here. There has to be some hatchet or hidden door. I run my fingertips over the wallpaper for hours, check behind the fugly paintings and crawl on the floor, digging my fingers into the carpet. I'm just stretching my arm into the narrow space beneath the bed, when the door swings open again. I see a pair of high-heeled, black leather boots first. Ending just above the knee, they give way for black leggings and a loose fitting black shirt that leaves everything to your imagination.

"Whatcha trying to find under there, little prince?" The girl asks and looks at me through wide, brown doe eyes.

"A way out," I answer, not even bothering to lie.

"Huh…" She kicks the door shut behind her and plops down on the mattress. "Tell me when you find one."

I sit back up and sigh. She swings her legs back and forth, her ponytail rocking in the same rhythm. It's hypnotizing. If she didn't smell so strongly of vampire and fresh blood, I could consider getting those clothes off oh her and wrapping that brown hair around my hand to pull on it. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm your teacher. Well, one of your teachers."

"What would a sixteen-year-old teach me?"

"Oh, you're a feisty one, aren't you? First of all, I'm 271 years old, and I was turned when I was seventeen, not sixteen. And – I'm here to show you how to use your fists and feet and fangs. Apparently you haven't had combat training of any sort in your life."

God, how long has Klaus had me watched? Ever since we left New Orleans? The anger started bubbling up inside me.

"My name's Adrianna, by the way."

"You're a dwarf in high heels – are you sure, you're not here to give me cooking lessons?"

"What would the future king of vampire New Orleans need cooking skills for?" She muses, ignoring the hostility of my words and it drives my rage upwards.

"Adrianna." I spit her name out like a spoiled fruit. "I'm nobody's fucking king. And I won't ever be. In case you haven't noticed: I'm not here voluntarily."

"Oh, I noticed. But one can be forced to rule, you know."

"There's no need for me here. I was born and grew up. I breathe. I will probably die in sixty or seventy years. Klaus is immortal."

Adrianna clicks her tongue and with a smirk on her slim lips, she shrugs and jumps off the bed. "I'm not here to talk politics." She backs up towards the door.

"Why did you come, then?"

"Oh…" She purses her lips and opens the door. "You know…I just wanted to see if you really were as cute as the girls were saying. Turns out you're even cuter." She winks and closes the door behind her.

Great. Just great. Stella is almost dead. Erin is a witch. I'm stuck at my lunatic father's place. And a hot vampire midget is hitting on me. Best birthday ever.


End file.
